The Creepy Clown Did It

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Jenny's POV

I stared at the wall.

It was painted one of the myriad of colours they call off white. There was a hairline crack developing in the plaster, and I followed it with my eyes to its source at the ceiling. To the right was a clown that adults seem to think that children love but are actually really creepy. I certainly found no comfort in its manic grin.

My mother was weeping beside me. I was too numb to try and comfort her.

The seats we were sat on were cold plastic and metal, and to my left the was a sign.

'The Stanford Children's Hospital'

It was all bright and cheery each letter painted a different colour, at odds with the reality of what a children’s hospital is. A place for dying kids.

Mum was holding me now, I could feel her sobs rocking us both, her arms wrapped about mybody like I was some baby, cradling me in her arms as if that would save me.

It wouldn't, she can't protect me from my own body.

Because that's what this is. It's my own body gone mad. Nothing can save me from this.

She can't save me from the cancer.

Then I flicked over and started to watch a re-run of the big bang theory. Gotta love Sheldon.

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